To know you is to hate you
by Justnyxie
Summary: Billie Joe suffered a head injury. Everything was alright, some stitches and nothing more, but is Mike the only one who notices any difference in the singer?
1. Chapter 1

It was 5am on a Friday morning when I got the phone call. As expected I had been asleep in my bunk on the tour bus. Tre was snoring on the bed above mine and Jason was asleep in front of the television. But Billie Joe's bed lay empty across from me.

I searched for the cell through my tangled sheets and put it to my ear. I was expecting to hear my best friend's cheerful voice but I was rather surprised to hear that of a woman's; a woman who definitely wasn't Brittney or Adie.

"Is this Mike?" my name was said carefully as if she wasn't sure of it.

"Yeah." I rubbed at my eyes with my knuckles, "What's up?"

"A man here has you as his 'ICE'. He told us to call you. At least we think he said that."

I sat up so fast that I rattled my head off the top bunk. Tre stirred and mumbled. What did she mean 'we think'?

"B-Billie Joe. Is he okay?" I knew it was him, no one else had me as their 'ICE'.

"He's unconscious but he'll be fine –"

"What happened!?" I demanded.

"If you could come down to the hospital I can explain everything to you sir." She sounded frightened but at that moment I couldn't care less; my best friend was laying in a god forsaken hospital alone and unconscious.

I hung up and immediately began to pull on a pair of pants and a shirt. Tre sat up in his bunk.

"What's going on?" He yawned.

"BJ's in the hospital. I'm going down there to see if he's okay."

"Shit sticks! Is he okay? What happened?"

"I don't know. But you should stay here."

"No fuckin way—"

"No Tre! Just stay here!" I cut him off abruptly and dashed from the room.

I lifted a set of keys from the coffee table and left before I could be questioned any further.

**************

A war was being waged between my rational brain and my imagination. One part reassured me that Billie Joe would be fine, while the other tried to convince me that he wouldn't. It was optimism verses worst case scenario.

At the hospital, as I paced down the corridors, I debated whether to call Adi and the boys. When I was directed into Billie Joe's room I decided it wasn't necessary. He was sitting upright, his head wrapped in cloth bandages and talking to a young nurse. The doctor had already explained to me that he had to receive ten stitches on his temple and that he could be rather confused at times. However he smiled weakly at me when I entered and motioned to the chair beside his bed.

"BJ are you okay?" I asked taking a seat.

"Completely. This here," He pointed to the bandages, "Is just something I'm tryin out."

I chuckled.

"What happened?"

"I don't really remember. I was getting smokes at a store and on the way back to the bus I was jumped. Everything kinda is fuzzy after that." He looked down at his hands and gingerly gazed back up at me.

"Shit man." I replied quietly.

"Don't worry about it. It could have been worse and I'm willing to bet that they'll let me leave now. "

He stared down at his sheets; his eyes were glazed and dull. For a moment I saw nothing of my best friend and instead I saw a stranger. The green of his eyes seemed brighter than usual and his smile was crooked.

"Billie Joe?" I questioned.

"What?" He looked up at me, "Who?"

That struck me dumb. Was he playing with me?

"I said 'Billie Joe'."

He seemed to mull it over for a moment before gently shaking his head and flashing me his pearly whites.

"Yeah, sorry dude, blacked out there for a second. Was thinkin about a large cup of coffee and reruns of X-Files on the tour bus."

I tried to laugh, I really did, but I couldn't help worrying about his behaviour. The doctor popped back in to inform Billie Joe that he could get dressed and discharge himself and while he did that I took the opportunity to talk to the doctor.

"Are you sure he'll be okay?" I asked her.

"He should be, but if anything comes up you should bring him back immediately." She checked her charts as she spoke and 'hmm'ed to herself.

"We're actually leaving today. We're in a band and right now we're on tour –"

"Well I am afraid that Mr Armstrong will have to take it easy for a few days."

Lucky for him we weren't actually playing for another few days, it was mostly travelling that would be done over the next few hours. I neglected to give her this information and simply nodded. Billie Joe joined us in the hallways fully dressed in his stripy t-shirt, jeans and converse. He ran his fingers through his hair in a vain attempted to style it.

"Make sure and put your feet up when you get home." The doctor smiled, "I don't want to be hearing of any more injuries."

"Sure thing sweetheart." He joked.

We bid her farewell and left the rowdy emergency room. Although Billie Joe was acting like his normal self, cracking jokes and chattering, I couldn't help but get an eerie feeling from him.


	2. Chapter 2

Billie Joe curled up on the couch with a blanket and the remote control as soon as he set foot on the bus. Tre and Jason bombarded me with questioned, not wanting to annoy Billie, and I explained everything while I made myself a well deserved coffee.

"We should just watch out for him y'know? And he'll have to take it easy." I said.

Neither of them had any problems with taking it easy. The downfall of being in a band was always being on the move and the tiring business of touring. Don't get me wrong, we loved it but it just played on your nerves.

"I think we should get him the once over when we reach the next town." Jason replied.

"Yeah! Yeah that's good! Let's do that!" Tre was over excited about getting to spend the next day relaxing and watching television.

Jason left us to hang out in one of the other buses when we started to move. Tre made coffee for all of us and I served up pancakes. Billie Joe looked so small hunched up in the corner of the couch with his knees drawn up to his chin. When I set down the plate of food on the coffee table he was the only one who didn't immediately reach out for one. He simply glanced at it and then back to the television. His coffee was grasped between his two hands, like a small child might hold a bottle.

Re-runs of Friends was playing on the television and I couldn't help but notice how intently he watched it. He was unusually silent as well.

"For the sake of fuck!" Tre complained as the opening theme began to play, "I've seen this a bizillion times!"

"I haven't." Billie Joe muttered quietly.

"Dude you have! We've all watched this so much we could recite every line!"

"No I haven't!"

Tre fell silent at Billie's stern comeback. It wasn't like him to become angry over something so small.

"O-okay." The drummer glanced at me, "Chill BJ."

Tre settled down and watched the show without any further complaints. I, however, couldn't take my eyes off Billie. Something was different about him. One moment he seemed perfectly like himself and the next he was a stranger. It was just the little things he did; the way he spoke, the way he sat and the expressions he held on his face. Even the he scratched his chin and twitched his changes were so sudden that it was hard to tell when they stopped and started.

Tre didn't seem so concerned. He was rather content to watch the rerun and sip his mocha coffee. But I did catch him glancing worryingly at me as if pleading for some sort of answer.

God, I wish I knew.

We remained like this for a while, I got up to top up my coffee while Tre and Billie talked and watched television. The singer was perfectly normal, if not a little confused at times, after his sudden outburst and it wasn't mentioned between us again. He was rather to cheery for a guy who had taken a blow to the skull.

**********

Eventually our traveling came to a brief halt outside a gas station and Tre disembarked the vehicle to get some cigarettes and food. I sat beside Billie Joe and took this opportunity to check if he was really okay.

"How are you feeling Bill." I asked.

He looked at me and shrugged.

"Just fine Mikey. I mean my head hurts like a mother – fucker but I'll be fine." Mid sentence he looked back to the television.

I was more than a little relieved. Maybe what the doctor had said covered more than just confusion and his little 'outburst'' was just a side effect of the injury? If I'm honest, I was just glad to have him alive. I couldn't imagine my life without the man! If he had been killed I would never have forgiven myself and I know for a fact that Adi would be as inconsolable as me.

I lent across and slipped my arm around his slim shoulders, in a friendly gesture and nothing more. His body stiffened and his head snapped round to meet mine.

"What the fuck!?" He screamed and pushed me off him, "Y-you fucking fag!"

I stared at him in total awe and bewilderment. We hugged and held each other all the time. Hell! He had even kissed me on more than several occasions. He enjoyed showing this off on stage, in front of millions of people, and found it entertaining when I slapped his ass in front of the screaming fans. The Billie Joe I knew was not coy about touching other men.

"Billie Joe, man, what did I do?!" I stammered.

"You fucking touched me! Don't ever put your arms round me-" He stopped and gazed at me through narrowed eyes, he cocked his head to the side and chewed his bottom lip, "Who the fuck are you anyway?"

That hurt; it stung like a kick in the balls. If he was playing, it really wasn't funny.

"It's me, Mike."

"Mike? I don't know anyone called Mike."

Somehow I knew he wasn't playing.

He stood up and let the blanket fall from his shoulders. Slowly he moved by me, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time.

"I'm going to bed. "

That was it. He went into the bed room and slammed the door leaving me to mull over what had just happened. I heard Tre step into the bus, carrying what I assumed was plastic bags.

He rummaged through the groceries behind me humming lightly to himself. Seconds later he shouted at me from the kitchenette.

"Think fast!"

I was hit on the back of the head by a packet, of what I can only assume, was cigarettes. I didn't move although I did feel rather stunned.

"Mike?" He wondered over and knelt beside me, "Michael Dirnt!?" his hand was waved in front of my eyes before he jumped to his feet, "Oh my Jesus! He's dead!"

"I'm not dead you jackass!" I rolled my eyes at him.

"What's the jizz with you sitting so fucking still like a zombie mother?!"

I didn't want to mention what had happened with Billie. Somehow I think Tre wouldn't , no, that's not fair, he would understand. I just think he would put it down to me over reacting at one of Billie's jokes. Which I clearly wasn't. Nothing about this was a joke.

"Nothing. I'm just coffee deprived." It was somewhat of a half truth.

"Okay dude, well let me rustle you up a 'Monsieur Cool surprise.' "he moved to the kitchen and I turned in my chair to watch him.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

"Trust me, you'll love it." His grin was scary wide.

He searched through the cupboards and placed things from the bags into them. The kettle was bowling beside him and he had my overly large coffee mug on the counter ready to be filled with whatever concoction he had in mind.

"Wheres BJ?" He asked mid – spoonful of caffeine.

"He went to bed." I muttered.

"Oh. Understandable, the tyke must be out of it; what with getting a mother fucker of a hit to the head."

I didn't reply. I just turned my eyes back to the television and waited for my drink. What Billie Joe had said had really hurt me and there was no longer any doubt in my mind that the singer had suffered some sort of mental injury. I knew it couldn't have been his conscious mind which had spoken to me in such a harsh way but none the less, it hurt like a kick to the jewels.


	3. Chapter 3

Later that evening, after a dinner of pot noodle and a can of beer, I retired to the bedroom. Tre remained in the living room to watch some movie about a bucket list.

I crept into the small bunk area and glanced over to the sleeping form on Billie Joe. He was tangled up in the sheets and his pillow had somehow ended up down by his feet. I bit my lip to stop myself from giggling at the raven haired man. Gently, I pulled off my jeans and shirt and lay down in my own bunk opposite from his.

For a while I just stared up at the wooden boards of Tre's bed, my arms behind my head and cell phone resting on my stomach. It was times like these that I couldn't help but think about my family back in Oakland. I had called Brittney earlier to ask how everything was back home. It was a daily routine of mine and, even though nothing really changed from day to day, I enjoyed hearing about her morning run to the store or about something that a friend of hers had said. Idle chit chat but welcomed all the same.

I knew for a fact that I wasn't the only one of us who did it. Tre rang home all the time to get a daily dose of gossip and Billie Joe was always calling and texting his wife and kids. Apart from today. I hadn't seen him near his cell phone at all and, injured, sick or not, he always would make contact with home. Suddenly I felt bad for Adi. She was probably worried sick that she hadn't heard from her husband. Then again it wasn't my place to call and explain things; Billie Joe would have to do that himself.

I sighed and rolled over to face the wall. For a while all I could hear was Billie Joe's soothed breathing and the sound of the television. I was almost off to sleep when I heard the singer stir.

"Mike?" He whispered.

"Yeah?" I tried not to sound angry, but truth be told I was still more than a little peeved at him.

"You okay?"

"Perfectly fine BJ." I rolled over to look at him and smiled, "How about you?"

"My head's a little shit." He groaned, "I musta blacked out."

"What do ya mean?"

"Last think I remember that Rachael chick was screamin at Ross for something." He rubbed at his eyes.

"You don't remember anything else?" I sat up and clicked on the small reading light above my bed. In the glow of the torch I could see how pale and sickly he looked. It was scary.

"No." He cocked an eyebrow, "Should I? I mean I remember having this weird dream about a chicken giving me her eggs to give to you but that's it." Quietly, he chuckled, "Don't tell me that actually happened?"

I didn't answer. I was busy weighing up the situation. He had yelled at me, there was no doubt about it, and yet he doesn't remember a thing of it. I'm no doctor, far from it, but I'm willing to bet my bass that this wasn't just a knock to the head anymore.

"Mike?"

"Yeah. Sorry BJ. I was just thinking is all."

I decided not to say anything about it and did my best to change the subject onto something safer. So I asked him about his dream and listened intently while he told it. He didn't once 'black out' but his movements and the way he sat was noticeably different. I had known the man since we were ten, so everything about him and his personality was burned into my memory.

Finally, after a few hours of talking, we decided to catch so sleep. He bid me good night and collapsed into his tangle of sheets. I returned the gesture and curled up under my duvet.

*************

The next morning I woke at seven am. Tre had slept in the living room and Billie Joe was moving around the small room. I lay in the warmth of my cot, dozing and thinking about the day ahead. The door to the cabin opened and closed and the next thing I know, a warm body is slipping in beside me.

I gently turn to see who was invading my personal space. Billie Joe smiled hazily at me.

"BJ? What's up? You cold?" I asked.

"Nothin Mikey. I'm just a little chilly all by my lonesome over there." He purred.

Billie Joe didn't talk like that. His eyes were brighter than they usually were, he had on one of my t-shirts and a set of rosary beads. This was very unlike the raven haired man. He snuggled his head into my chest. Just yesterday he had called me a fag for putting my arm around his shoulders and now he basically climbs on top of me?

I didn't push him off though. Instead I slipped my arms around his petite frame and held him closer. Why I did it? I have no idea but I just felt the need to protect him.

"You's all nice and warm sweet pea." He mumbled, "You's smell nice too."

"That's sweat BJ."

He chuckled, "I likes it." He lifted his head to gaze at me, his nose was inches from mine, "Call me Twitch. I likes the pet names buy BJ implies wrong things."

"Oh…um. Okay. Then."

Twitch? What the fuck? I said nothing though; I didn't want to ruin the moment. His body was so warm against mine, his skin was so soft and his hair smelt like smoke and shampoo. I could feel his muscles move under my fingers and could feel his heart beat against his ribs.

"You's okay papa? You's awfully quiet."

I was fine. More than fine. Despite my logically mind, I found that I was enjoying this. I never wanted to let him go. I knew what I was feeling was completely wrong but everything about it was just so perfect.

He shifted closer to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. His pushed his left leg in-between mine and glanced up into my eyes. Then, out of nowhere, he gently kissed me on the lips. It sent a surge of electricity through my body.

"You's beautiful Mikey." He hummed.

I blushed as I felt his erection against my leg and I felt myself also getting hard. I protested with my mind, I begged my hormones to chill out, but no one was listening. He grinned up at me.

"Does daddieo want to have some fun times?" He moved his hand to rest on my erection.

"Um. Twtich, I'm not really sure-"

"Awww. Come on Mikey, you's all hard."

"Y-yeah. But. Um, it's hard to be when you're grinding against me like that. C-can we give it a miss B- I mean Twitch?" I pleaded.

I didn't want to do this. He was my oldest friend and he had just suffered a head injury. Fucking him here and now would be immoral of me.

He laid his head back against my chest and sighed.

"Okay papa. We's just snooze then, yeah?"

I rested my cheek against his head and, despite the lust filled agony I was in, I nodded.

"Yeah Twitch. We can just lay here and sleep."


	4. Chapter 4

We lay like that for a good two hours before I gently lifted and set him on his own bunk; I needed to pee like a drunkin race horse. He stirred and mumbled profanities as he curled into a small ball.

When I left the room I found Tre laying spread out on the sofa, one arm behind his head, the other draped over its side and a mug of something sitting on the coffee table. I said 'good morning' and he grunted in response.

I Stepped into the small bathroom and emptied my bladder. I checked my reflection only to find my hair was a mess and I looked exhausted; even more so than our damaged Billie Joe. It definitely wasn't attractive. But I thought 'The hell with it' and went to join Tre in the living room.

"How's Bill?" the drummer asked while I prepared the first coffee of the morning for myself.

"Sleeping. His heads a little painful but apart from that I think he's fine." I lied; lied through my own pearly choppers and God it almost killed me to do so.

"Adi called, I said that you should explain, but I made sure and mentioned that Billie wasn't, you know, dead."

I lifted my coffee over to the lodge and sat with my legs crossed. Adi's number was dialled before I had even gotten comfortable.

"Mike!" she answered, "What's wrong? What's happened my Billie?"

"Adi, calm your chips. BJ is fine. He just got a little knock on the head and the doctor told him to rest."

"Oh my God. Is he okay?"

"Yes, yes totally peachy. Trust me. He just needs to rest for a few days is all. He'll call you once he wakes up but I think it's better to let him get some rest."

She reluctantly agreed after I reassured her that Billie Joe wasn't ass over tits somewhere in ditch. I sighed, hung up the phone and lent back into the couch. Tre passed me a kit kat from his stash; He knew that chocolate was my only other weakness aside from Coffee.

"Thanks dude." I bit into the delicious biscuit, "Women are neurotic."

Tre scoffed, "You think she's neurotic? Man, you pampered him yesterday like he was a bitch in labour."

"He's my best friend! What am I meant to do? Leave him to grovel in agony? I would do the same for you."

Tre didn't smiled and made a childish 'awww' face.

"I love you too man."

I snatched the remote from the coffee table and switched the channel to something more appropriate than 'Babestation'. I glanced out the window to see where we had stopped for the night. It turned out to be a rather nice view and I preferred gazing at it to the garbage on the television.

My mind did nothing but mull over our current situation; correction, my current situation. I knew Billie Joe wasn't well but yet, I said nothing to anyone. Why? Why couldn't I bring myself to say anything? There was an odd part of him that I hated, the part that called me a fag and shoved me away from him. But the part I had seen this morning, Twitch, made me feel so loved. It awoke feelings in me that I hadn't felt for a long time. I wanted to go back in there and hold him, cuddle him; Kiss him. But fuck him? No. I couldn't do that to Billie Joe's subconscious no matter how much I wanted to.

Apart from Twitch and the nameless other, there was, of course, Billie Joe. Was he trapped inside his own head looking out? Or was he simply asleep while all this was going on? It certainly seemed to be the latter.

Personally, I couldn't quite decide how I felt about all this.

"You think too much dude." Tre piped.

"Hmm. What?" I replied.

"You've been starin out there for the last 30 minutes."

I hadn't realised that it had been that long. My coffee was cold and the rest of my chocolate had gone uneaten. I suddenly had no appetite for either of them.

"You need to eat something BJ."

Billie Joe was seated by the window where I had sat a mere hour ago. He watched intently as we moved along the highway and sipped at a large mug of tea. It was definitely Billie Joe. The way he sat and talked only portrayed this.

"I'm really not hungry Mike." He replied, "I feel like I have been run over by a fuckin trunk."

"Maybe it's something to do with that big old bandage on your head?" Tre joked.

I placed a plate piled high with pancakes, toast and biscuits in the center of the coffee table.

"It's there if you want it BJ. I'm not gonna treat you like a kid and feed ya."

We sat talking and discussing garbage for a good hour. The plate was cleared by both me and Tre; Billie Joe didn't take a bite. He range Adi and undated her on the fact he wasn't dying and while he did that, Tre and I fled the scene to the small kitchen.

After a while he hung up and, taking his silence as a sign, we went into the living room to join him.

"Fuck sake." He swore, "Why the hell are we on a fuckin bus anyway? Ain't there no motel rooms?"

It was so out of nowhere that Tre and I could do nothing but stare blankly at the small man. I knew from the way that he spoke and sat that it wasn't our Billie. He chewed his lip furiously, blood dribbling from the wound he had created. His glare was icy and maniacal.

"Who the fuck are you!"He snapped and shot to his feet, "Why the hell am I on this fricken bus?"

"Billie Joe, it us. Tre and Mike. Y'know?" Tre pleaded.

The drummer was scared. His voice was shaking, he glanced from me to Billie and moved closer to my body.

"I'm calling the cops!" the singer shouted.

"What? No! Billie Joe, we aren't going to hurt –"

"Billie Joe? Who the fuck? You calling me a woman?" he spat it out as if he had just ingested poison, " You," He pointed at me, " Fag! Calling me a woman? Hummh. You're one to talk!"

I blushed. From anger or embarrassment? I couldn't tell.

"What does he mean? Mike? He's fuckin delusional!" Tre took hold of my arm like a small child.

"Fuck you both!"

The small man had gotten my length before I had snapped out of my trance. I felt his fist smash hard into my jaw, I fell backwards and landed on my ass. Tre was still standing, having let go of my arm before I plummeted. 'Billie' stood above me, watching as I gripped hold of my throbbing cheek. His charmingly crooked teeth were bore in a sharp chilling grin.

"What the fuck are you doing? BJ?" Tre was knelling beside me and glaring up at my attacker.

"Fucking homo deserved it."

"I'm not gay you fucking jerk off!" I was on my feet in seconds, my arms gripping the collar of Billie's shirt and my face inches from him, "This isn't you Billie!"

"No." he chuckled, "I'm Fink. About fucking time that other faggot cleared off."

"Get out of him!" I snarled, shaking him slightly.

"Oh you'd just love that, wouldn't you? So you can fuck him senseless into the mattress."

"We aren't like that!"

He laughed, deep and mocking, before being his mouth to my ear.

"I know you get hard just looking at him. You wanna move to his rhythm and bury yourself balls deep into his sweet ass. You wanna hear him scream your name, see him tangled in the sheets below you covered in a sheet of cum and sweat."

I threw him from me. He landed with a crash to the floor and gripped hold of his skull.

"Jesus! Mike. What the fuck are you doing man?" he asked.

It was Billie again. I could tell from the pleading look in his soft green eyes; even the way he struggled to his feet. But I was too angry to care.

Tre put a hand on my shoulder.

"You say nothing." I whispered harshly to the drummer, "Don't breathe a word. We'll discuss this later."

Tre agreed.

"I'm going to bed." I snarled directly at Billie Joe.

He watched me, completely confused and, from what I can guess, hurt, as I stormed from the room and into the small bunk area.  
Billie was pleading with Tre in the living room but he cleverly avoided the subject. I switched on the radio, lay back on my bunk and spent the rest of the evening with my own thoughts.


End file.
